


Amorous Intrigue

by sweetfallacy



Series: A Find in a Thousand [2]
Category: Maurice - Forster
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-13
Updated: 2010-02-13
Packaged: 2017-10-07 05:37:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/61939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetfallacy/pseuds/sweetfallacy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Feeling dejected, Maurice takes it out on Anne.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Amorous Intrigue

"Hello. Did you have a good day shooting?" asked Anne. She smiled serenely from above before returning her focus to fussing over the flower arrangement.

"Frightful," Maurice answered with a rueful grin. He knew that Anne didn't approve of killing defenseless animals, but would never say as much, not wanting to spoil their sport. Not that she had much to worry about with Archie's record. It was no wonder they had run amuck over the gardens of Pendersleigh, he couldn't hit more than one "bunny wunny" out of every ten. The only 'frightful' thing about shooting with Archie is the fear that you may walk into range of one of his more wild shots.

"It's awfully rude of Clive to have been here so little, but he's working so hard," she said, apropos to nothing.

Maurice could have sighed at her predictability. Ever the doteful wife, Anne couldn't hold a conversation without mention of her beloved husband. _Working hard_, indeed. Maurice was coming to the opinion that Clive had the same goal in mind as himself, working long hours just to avoid home. Though who he was avoiding today -- Anne or himself -- Maurice couldn't be too sure.

It's not that Clive ever failed to seem pleased to see him, but they had supposedly loved one another once. Yet even after Maurice had conceded to playing the role of friend, Clive hardly spoke to him as freely as before. Maurice was sure that this was another ploy in Clive's game to distance himself from what they used to be. Nevermind all his former posturing on the higher love of men.

Oblivious to the turn of Maurice's thoughts, Anne blithely continued on, "And I do think it'll be a good idea for the poor if he does get in, don't you? He's their best friend, if only they knew it."

"You can't worry too much about the poor. One must give them a leg up, for the sake of the country, but they don't suffer as we should in their place," he replied. It was all he could do not to scoff. The woman made it sound as though Clive was God's gift to the unfortunate! If the man couldn't remember _his_ friend's birthday, what good was he to the poor? Despite their struggles, at least they knew to rely on no one but themselves.

"I see we're in the hands of the right sort of stockbroker," she teased. "Oh, here's the Reverend Borenius. He's joining us for dinner. Do you know him? He's come to scold Clive about the tenants' housing. Now, he would say that they want love."

"No doubt they do, but they won't get it," Maurice remarked before he could bite his tongue. With luck, Anne wouldn't read the underlying bitterness.

"Mr. Hall," she said with mock astonishment. "I scold Clive for being cynical, but really, I think you're being horrible."

He didn't understand what Clive saw in his wife. Sure, Anne was sweet and graceful in that way women are, he supposed, but there was nothing extraordinary about her insipid eyes and bird-like neck. She was no prettier than a dozen other dark-haired girls. However, with her small, delicate frame poised before him, it was clear to him that Mrs. Anne Durham was Maurice's opposite in everything but their affection for one man.

"I get used to being horrible. The poor get used to their slums. After you've banged about a bit, you get used to your particular hole. Everyone yaps at first."

_"There are other ways to be happy,"_ Clive had said only a year ago. If this was what he meant, Maurice didn't want any part of it. Never before had his affections felt so much like a cage, but with the help of Lasker-Jones he would be free. He was tired of getting used to it.

"I've had a telegram. I've got to go back up to town tomorrow."

"Oh, no, not bad news I hope."

"No."

"Well, in that case, it must be an amorous intrigue."

Maurice smirked but declined to respond. What dear Anne didn't realize was that his sort of "amorous intrigue" was precisely the problem. If only she knew.

**Author's Note:**

> The dialogue is lifted directly from the film's script.


End file.
